


Ways to Apologise

by duchess_of_brighton



Series: Hop Shots [8]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jim "Chief" Hopper Being Jim "Chief" Hopper, Jim "Chief" Hopper Lives, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23783086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchess_of_brighton/pseuds/duchess_of_brighton
Summary: Written for the prompt: Could you do one where Hopper comes home REALLY late (later than usual) and he makes it up to the reader because he had her worried?
Relationships: Jim "Chief" Hopper/Reader, Jim "Chief" Hopper/You
Series: Hop Shots [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641358
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Ways to Apologise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinsley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinsley/gifts).



> Written for Kinsley's prompt: Could you do one where Hopper comes home REALLY late (later than usual) and he makes it up to the reader because he had her worried?
> 
> I started work on this a few weeks ago, then got distracted by my longer Hopper stories, so MY apologies!
> 
> Trigger warning: very brief mention of domestic abuse.

Hopper never said he'd be with you by a particular time, even though usually when he comes to your place for the night he's there by 8pm at the latest. As 9pm comes and goes, you remind yourself that he's Chief of Police, that he didn't specify a time, and that 9pm isn't even that late. At 10pm you crack and call his office line, just to check in, but there's no reply; he's probably on his way to you. At 11pm you start to feel sick, by midnight you're trying his office line every fifteen minutes and seriously debating calling the hospital. Half an hour later you do call the hospital, who have nothing to tell you. By 1am you're sitting on the couch, watching the phone and the door, and convincing yourself that Hop is trapped in his wrecked truck, held hostage by a desperate burglar, dead in an upside down version of the world, or some variation on those themes. 

At 1:23am you hear his key in the lock, then his curse as he realises that you left your front door unlocked for him; it swings open and you see him, looking totally unhurt, a familiar expression of mingled frustration and humour on his face.  
"How many times do I have to tell you, lock your fuckin-" He starts, then stops as he reads your expression. "You okay? Did something happen?"  
Your body is moving before you even register the reality of the situation, hurtling across the room to throw yourself into his arms, desperately needing to prove that he's really here.   
"Whoa, whoa." His arms close willingly around you, hugging you close, "You didn't have to wait up for me baby, not that I'm not happy you're so pleased to see me." Something about the humour, the hint of innuendo, and the complete lack of any remorse in his tone flips your switch from relieved to mightily pissed. 

You pull back, and deliver the hardest punch you can to his upper arm.  
"Oooowwww! What the fuck?!" He looks shocked, but also a little amused, which only makes you angrier.  
"I called the fucking hospital!" You hiss, "I called your office, countless times, I sat here thinking you were dead, and you walk in like nothing happened, with your smiles and your-"  
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" His face is finally serious, "What are you talking about, sweetheart?"  
"It's 1:23!" You screech, "What do you think I'm talking about?!" And before he can answer, you stalk to the bedroom and slam the door. The face that you've spent the last few hours desperate to see - and terrified you'd never see again - is now a face you'd kind of like to punch, so it's best for you both if you take a minute. 

You're pacing so frantically that the slap of your bare feet on the floorboards almost obscures the sound of gentle knocking on the bedroom door. His voice still penetrates through though.   
"Baby? I don't know what the fuck is happening, but if I had to guess, I'd say you didn't get my message?"   
You stop, waiting for his next words.   
"I told Callahan to call you and let you know what was going on."   
"Well, he didn't!" You confirm through the closed door. "Because if he had, I would have gone to bed instead of torturing myself thinking you were dead - or worse!" And given that Hop has told you all about Hawkins lab, you both know there is a worse.   
"Sweetheart, could you open the door? Please?"   
You decide to do as he asks, but not in particularly good grace, flinging it open and then returning to your pacing.   
"I shouldn't have left it with Callahan." He says, as soon he's in the room. "But I was with a woman who'd been beaten shitless by her husband, and couldn't find her six year old kid. She wouldn't go to hospital until she knew where her son was." He rubs his hands over his face.  
His words stop you in your tracks, "Did you find him?" Your heart twists, your anger fading away.   
"Yeah, poor kid was hiding in the basement, too scared to come out when we searched. The dog found him in the end. He's fine. Powell found the husband in a bar, big fucking surprise, and now he's in jail." He looks exhausted.   
"I'm sorry." You tell him.   
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry you were worried. I would never want that." He gives you a tired kind of smile. "C'mere?"   
You step willingly into his arms, taking comfort from him and trying to give some in return. He hugs you tighter as he lets out a long breath, and you snuggle into him.   
"I love you, that's why I was scared." You murmur.  
"I love you too, very much, that's why you need to lock your goddamn door." There's a little humour in his tone and this time you welcome it. 

After a few moments, his hand strokes down your back, moving from your shoulder blade to your waist, and then lower, cupping your ass.   
"Hop...?" You question softly.  
"I need you, baby." His lips find your neck, "Please?"  
You answer by moving your head to nudge his mouth with yours, and he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. He smells of a long day and too many cigarettes, but he tastes like home. You help him to shed his clothes, and he strips you of the flannel shirt of his that you're wearing, leaving you in just your underwear. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you all the while, and when you feel the mattress against your legs, you let Hop push you down to sit on the edge.  
"Lay back, baby." He urges, dropping to his knees in front of you. "I want to make you feel good."  
You can't help a whimper escaping your mouth at the thought, but you still protest, "I want to take care of you..."  
He smiles slightly, resting his hands on your thighs, "You are. This is what I need, sweetheart. Lay back."   
You've never argued with Hopper in the bedroom, and you're not about to start now. You let your upper body fall back onto the mattress, as his hands gently pull your panties down your legs and off over your feet. Then his fingers are on your inner thighs, gently trailing across your skin, making you suck in a breath as he pushes your legs wider apart.   
"I can smell you, baby." His voice is soft and gravelly, "I drove home planning to wake you up this way," Your feel the light scratch of his beard a second before he suckles a kiss against your sensitive flesh, just inches from where you most want him.   
"Jim..." You moan in half pleasure, half frustration, and he lets out a little huff of laughter before his tongue parts your folds and your breath catches in your throat.  
"You taste so fucking sweet." He murmurs, then his lips find your clit and from then on he's relentless. Sometimes when he goes down on you he likes to tease, but this time he's intense, driving you towards climax with strokes and flicks of his tongue, sucking on your clit, and then you feel his hand on your inner thigh, and he pushes his thumb inside you, shallowly thrusting as he continues to work your clit with his mouth. 

Your spine arches helplessly, it feels like all the blood in your body is rushing to your centre, your limbs tingling as the pressure builds inexorably. It's almost too much, and you try to tell him so in an incoherent babble, but then you hit that moment of white noise and surrender, and your whole body convulses with pleasure. 

As you come back to earth, Hop's stroking your hips with his big hands, looking at you with an expression on his face that brings tears to your eyes.  
"I love you, baby." He says softly, "I would never, ever, hurt you."   
"I know," You reply quickly in surprise, "I know you wouldn't." Then your scrambled brain remembers where he's been tonight, and your reaction when he got home, "You make me feel safe, Hop. I love you. I trust you." You reach out a hand to him, "Now come up here, please?"  
He obeys immediately, stretching his body over yours, blanketing you in his warmth and strength. He kisses you slowly, hands running over your sides, and then to your breasts, making you mewl as he lightly pinches your nipples.   
"You ready for me, baby?" He murmurs, shifting his hips so you feel him between your legs, his hard dick stroking deliciously against your clit before he notches at your entrance.   
"Always..." You whisper, and he kisses you again as he slowly starts to push inside you.

After his relentless approach to eating you out, you were expecting hard and fast, maybe with a little of his trademark dirty talk. Instead, Hop takes it at a slow glide, loving words falling from his lips instead of filthy ones, as he drives you inexorably towards another shattering climax. You surrender to him happily, wrapping your legs around his hips to keep him deep inside as your pussy clenches around his dick, until you finally feel him let go and fill you, his lips finding yours as he does.

"I'm so sorry you were scared." He tells you a little later, his fingers gently twining in your hair as you lay comfortably sated with your head resting on his chest. "You know I would never do that deliberately."  
"The only thing you have to apologise for is trusting that doofus Callahan to make a phone call." You reassure him, in a slightly grumbling way.   
Normally you know he'd defend Cal, but tonight he wisely restrains his response to a grunt that you decide to interpret as agreement.   
"And besides," You add, "You've more than made it up to me."  
His answer this time is more of a hum, and you wrap your arm across his belly, snuggling closer into his body.   
"I'm not saying you should be late more often, but..." You tease, and now you hear it loud and clear - it's a snore. You've been conversing with a sleeping Hopper.  
Smiling to yourself, you close your eyes and let out a sigh of satisfaction. After all, any night that ends with Hopper asleep and safe in your bed has to be a win - however late he shows up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have any smutty and/or fluffy situations you'd like to see Hopper and reader in, let me know in the comments!
> 
> DoB x


End file.
